


Madness

by kristalno_Jasna



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Stream of Consciousness, a study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 05:58:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10237361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristalno_Jasna/pseuds/kristalno_Jasna
Summary: A take on madness.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This work is neither based on nor refering to mental health problems.

Once, very long ago, when the world was endless and tides were always low, I walked with my father along a seafront. Stones were white. Sea was dark.  
Sun casted an orange shadow.  
That day, very long ago, people were passing us by. Good people, ugly people, tourists and gamblers, rich people, locals, women, those who felt like men, those who looked like children, and those with withering skin.  
Quiet people. Their conversations hushed, because gossip was a form of conspiracy. Their voices blended together into a noise, the kind of noise your ear tunes out because no one tries to make a mosaic from pieces of conversations.  
Soon, my father and I passed by a boy who jumped into the sea.  
Have we passed him by? Perhaps it was him who passed by us.  
I wanted to jump. My father grabbed my hand.  
“Don’t let your monster out.” he said.  
I obeyed. I watched the sea, where it was lighter than its usual dark. Bubbles. And a head of a boy who jumped.  
“Did he let his monster out?” I asked.  
“Yes.”  
“Does everyone have a monster?”  
“Yes.”  
“Why must we keep it in?”  
“Because it can hurt those we love.”  
I did not understand.

* * *

 

We kept walking along the seafront. Stones were white. Sea was dark.  
Sun casted an orange shadow.  
We passed by people. Ordinary people, ordinary us. Heading somewhere, heading nowhere, heading anywhere, not heading at all.  
Soon we passed by a mother and a boy. She slapped him. He cried.  
My father said “He hurt a someone he loves. He let his monster out. He was lucky - his mother pushed the monster back inside him.”  
“It is the boy who’s crying." I said. "His cheek hurts.”  
“It hurts to keep your monster inside.”  
I did not understand.

* * *

 

We kept walking along. White stones. Dark sea.  
Sun red, its shadow orange.  
We passed people, and people passed us. Every day, every evening. Some once. Some twice. Some many times. Some not once. Strange people,  
Soon we passed by a man and his lover. They shouted at each other, both crying.  
“They let the monsters out, and hurt whom they love.” my father said.  
“Both monsters?”  
“Yes.”  
“But if the monsters are free, then they, too, are free of monsters.” i said.  
“You can’t free yourself from your monster. It is a part of you.”  
We passed by. I looked behind. The lovers were kissing.  
I did not understand.

* * *

 

We kept walking along the seafront. Stones were white. Sea was dark.  
Evening was orange.  
I wanted to eat an orange, but none were sweet during summer. Instead i ate ice cream, while i watched people pass us by, as we passed by them. Walking, strolling, pacing, hasting. Wide steps, skips, short steps, drags. Some wheeled. Some stood. Large feet, slander feet, bony feet, strong feet. Bright shoes, white sandals, bare feet, red heels.  
Soon we passed by a man shouting at the sea. Or sun? Or sky? Or maybe air. He kept screaming out of his lungs. His voice was rasped, his throat dry. His words were loud and clear, yet i couldn’t understand not one of them. He spoke another language.  
Language of the sea? or Sun? Or Sky? Or maybe Air.  
My father took my hand in his.  
“This man has set his monster free.”  
It looked beautiful. It looked frighting.  
Did it look beautiful because it was frightening? Or did it look frightening because it was beautiful?  
“Is he free?” I asked.  
“He is.”  
“Can he hurt those he loves?”  
“It is the only thing he can do.”  
“Does his monster hurt him?”  
“His monster has already devoured him.”  
I did not understand.

* * *

 

We kept walking, that day, once long ago. World seemed endless. Tide was low.  
White stones. Dark sea.  
No sun.  
I wanted to shout like that man did. To speak a language so clear. Nothing hurt. Everything hurt. I was joy. I was envy. I was anger. I was emotion. I was trembling.  
My father covered me with his hand over my shoulder.  
“Don’t let your monster out.”

**Author's Note:**

> All criticism is welcome.


End file.
